Tangerines
by uncmeister
Summary: Some love stories just don't turn out the way we want them to. Bebe knows this well. However, it doesn't mean you can't work with what you do have right? Onesided Bebe/Wendy, because if all the dudes are gay or taken then what else can you do?


**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. It owns me. For real.**

**AN: Yeah, not too much to say about this one. I had this really random and freakishly out of place epiphany one night when I was allegedly 'reading' my 700 page biography on John Adams for one of my summer assignments, and decided that I simply HAD to write something for Wendy and ****Bebe. So I did. And you know what? I'm actually really pleased with how it turned out for my first femslash ever in the history of my life, especially now that I've cleaned it up some. Now, the question is, do YOU like it? **

**Reviews and *positive* critiques are mucho appreciated. Partly inspired by "It Had to Be You" from Motion City Soundtrack and "The Saltwater Room" by Owl City, both fantastically sweet bands.**

**-uncmeister**

* * *

**Tangerines**

She sits down beside me and I know that I love her.

The way she glows in the afternoon sunlight, how she smiles so brightly and easily at me, the fact that she can say something as simple and plain as "Hey Bebe" and make it sound like poetry or the greatest thing in the world....Just the way she eases herself down on the picnic table I'm sitting at makes me love her more (or maybe it's just that she's sitting down next to _me_), and when the light Autumn breeze rushes through her long black hair and sends the trace scent of tangerines my way, I love her even_ more._

Tangerines. That's not quite what I'd expect, but it somehow works. Sweet, but tangy. Just like her. I inhale despite myself, but before I get too carried away I remember to throw back an equally perky, "Hey Wendy".

Apparently, that's her cue to turn her bright perky face at me excitedly and start carrying on and on about what sounds like the latest development in her and Stan's 'absolutely fantastic' relationship. I wouldn't exactly know because 1) she talking _way_ too fast for the average human ear to pick up on, and 2) I'm still caught on the thought of actually _smelling _her hair. I honestly think I'm turning into one hell of a creep. I mean, it's one thing to love her behind her back--what she doesn't know definitely doesn't hurt _her_--but to actually start _smelling_ her is just a whole new _level _of creepy. And yet, I still find myself sniffing again anyways. Aw screw it, I'm sure she won't mind much anyways since she's too busy talking about Stan to notice.

My eyes slip shut and I feel the warm sun on my cheeks contrasting with the cool, crisp autumn air, the sweet scent of citrus in my nose. Ahhh_,_ I smile to myself, I could get used to this. I inhale again lightly feeling relaxed and notice that it's feels like I'm flying. How fantastically strange...

"...Bebe are you even listening to me?" I hear her ask me irritatedly. So maybe she _was_ paying more attention to me than I thought. Oops. Without looking, I'm well aware that her pretty face is pouting to my right. I wouldn't be surprised if she's wondering what the hell I'm grinning about since I'm technically supposed to be 'listening'.

"Hm?" I murmur dreamily, taking a sip of my apple juice but imagining something more citrusy. "Yeah, yeah he's got the dreamiest smile this side of the country. I heard you." I bat a friendly lash and flash her my trademark pina colada flavored smile. I think I might love teasing her more with my excellent wit than I love smelling her, and I _do _love smelling her. But of course, Wendy being Wendy, knows much more regarding 'wittiness' than me and it's at times like say, right now, where that becomes an apparent fact.

"While that_ is _true" Wendy begins and shoots me a self-satisfied look that tells me she's got me red handed, "I was actually saying that he has the dreamiest_ laugh_ this side of the country." Crap, I was so close..."So, what _exactly_ are you thinking about since you're still not paying attention to me?"

Ooh_ damn_ she's quick. I open my mouth, ready to tell her about how I was originally thinking about how she smells like tangerines and how it's really creepy for me to be smelling her, but I did it anyways because it feels like I'm soaring with every sniff, but I catch myself.

"Life" I answer simply instead.

"So you're not paying any attention to me" She deadpans raising a nicely shaped eyebrow, but I don't miss the hint of amusement in her voice.

I blink and consider what she said for a moment, "No, not really." I return to my abandoned bendy straw without looking at her.

"Well that's good to know" Wendy continues easing her elbows onto the table so she can peer at me suspiciously,"So what are you _really_ thinking about?"

I've gotta say she's definitely perceptive, maybe too perceptive for my taste. And here I thought I was actually off the hook. Ha, that's almost laughable. Really, what am I thinking? This is Wendy I'm dealing with. Not only is she too perceptive for her own good, she's also way too persistent.

"Life" I answer vaguely again. I'm more interested in the fact that there's apple juice on my tongue, but all I taste is tangerine. Something about that makes me want to giggle and at the same time cry but I'm not really sure why.

"Jeez Bebe, _that's_ specific" She mutters tartly to herself as I watch her eyes roll up to the clear blue sky above us. What really catches my attention is the small frown pulling on her lips.

"I know" I giggle and give her a cheeky smile, still pondering her frown. After a few quiet seconds, I decidedly set down my juice box and turn my face up towards the sky as well.

It's this bright blue that's only possible on crisp Autumn days like these and the only thing obstructing it are the small wisps of clouds drifting by here and there, and a flock of geese doing the smart thing and heading south for the winter. A part of me wishes I could join them too. Who knows where they're going. Maybe they're headed somewhere tropical and warm like Mexico or Hawaii, or maybe they're just going wherever the wind takes them, as long as it's away from the frozen Hellscape that's South Park. And while I look up at the birds in the sky, I can't help but think back to Wendy sitting beside me quietly, staring up at the sky as well. I sneak a peek at her eyes trailing after the birds on their annual journey, and take in the scene, the light breeze splaying wisps of shiny black hair across her face and her cheeks taking on a raw pink look. She shivers slightly and draws her pink scarf closer to her neck and readjusts her beret on her head. I decide she looks amazing. I wonder absently, as I watch her watching the geese longingly, if she wants to fly away too. If she did, I'm sure she'd bring Stan along with her. This makes me frown which gets me thinking back to her own disappointed frown, and then I also wonder if she knows I'm holding something back from her and if maybe that's why she was frowning. Could it bother her that I'm not telling everything to her and she secretly hates it?

I decide that I really, really hope so. A tingly, dizzy feeling tickles my insides and my heartbeat starts to race, before I decide to stop thinking so much. I mean, she _is_ my best friend, so yes, it should bother her. Nothing funny there...unless it's a whole different type of bother and she really just--

Wait, I'm thinking too much again. I'm almost about to slap myself in the head for being stupid when Wendy starts talking again. Thank God.

"Y'know Bebe" She starts up, "you've been acting really weird lately."

I snap out of my funk as she flips her tangerine scented hair over her shoulder and away from me and takes a neat bite of her peanut butter and banana sandwich. I almost want to protest and ask her to flip her hair back to my side but I don't. I glance down and realize my hand is hovering in the air, all ready to reach for her. I squeak and make for my juice instead. Luckily she doesn't notice my predicament, but really I need to be more careful. That was about as stupid as sniffing her. My fingers flex under their purple mittens and I stare at them like they're something to behold because really, they are. God, it's like they have a mind of their own or something!

"If I didn't know better" She's saying (I'm only half listening again),"_I'd_ say you have a crush."

It's at this point that I almost choke on my current sip of apple juice.

"W-what?" I sputter a little _too _anxiously. But really, can you blame me? I mean, that was totally unexpected right? What I want to know is how she always know these sort of things. Jesus, you'd think she's a psychic or some overly perceptive mom. Then again I'm not the Queen of Inconspicuous-ness either, ignoring that time I came up with that plan to get Clyde Donovan popular so I could milk him for free shoes. That time I was_ totally_ sneaky and I almost got away with it too if hadn't been for that damn Stan. Eying Wendy nervously, I'd say he's won again too.

"A-hah! You know exactly what I'm talking about. And you're guilty aren't you?" My thoughts disappear and I find myself blinking rapidly at a way too close Wendy. I can only imagine my face as she leans closer to me, narrowing her soft grey eyes and pointing a well manicured finger in my direction. I probably look electrocuted or panicked or something but it's not my fault because she's _right there_. I don't think she even realizes how close she is to me, with only a foot of space between us, or maybe I'm just overreacting. Yeah, I'm probably overreacting. The typical fluttery feeling I usually feel intensifies into something more noticeable and for a moment it feels like my heart is dancing under my green tank top. Jesus Christ, I hope I'm not blushing.

"I _am _not!" I practically gasp going for more of an 'angry' or 'insulted' sound instead of 'flustered and absolutely fucking guilty'. Unfortunately, it comes out as some horrible blend of all of them, so I just sound angry because I'm absolutely fucking guilty. So I'm pretty much proving her right aren't I?

"Yes, yes you are." Uh huh yep, just proved her right. "Now are you going to tell me what young man has you smitten enough to completely ignore me?" the raven haired girl smirks coyly. My face heats up some more and I feel like sinking through my chair, and through the concrete and hopefully far, far away from Wendy Testaburger, the most horrendously persistently perceptive person I've ever met.

"No" I answer, stubbornly turning my attention back to sipping my endless apple juice. Really, it's this 'supersized' Juicy Juice carton that's three times the size of a regular juice box and as far as I'm concerned, it's the second greatest thing ever created, right next to chocolate covered raisins. Now there's something straight up magical about those things.

"Oh come on, I always talk to you about Stan! You can tell me! I promise I won't tell him! Pleaseeee???" She whines folding her hands in her lap like a little girl and looking up at me sparkly eyed and innocent.

"NO" I groan and finally shove her away from me.

"Is it Clyde?" She asks.

"No"

"Token?"

"Nope"

"Craig?"

"Negative"

"Tweek?"

"Uh-uh"

"Kenny!"

"Not at all"

"Oh I know! Kyle! It's Kyle isn't it?!" Wendy points at me and excitedly bounces up and down in her seat like a lunatic, earning the attention of other students, and to my horror, one Kenny McCormick.

"Wendy, that was in _fourth grade."_ I put some emphasis into the fourth grade and make sure the look I give her is totally pained and annoyed all the while trying to ignore Kenny picking up his tray from his current table and making his way towards us---but she doesn't give up.

"So? Me and Stan have been together since third!" She rebounds smartly and I hear an approaching snort that has my grinding my teeth. Of all people to notice, it has to be him. Then on top of it all, I realize exactly what she just said.

"Ugh..." _Don't remind me, _I think bleakly to myself. God this sucks. I pick up my head to throw a glare at a smirking Kenny who just so happens to be bumping by our little table. His crisp blue eyes meet my hazel ones and hold them. The stare only lasts a second before his eyes flicker toward Wendy, but it's enough to leave me feeling raw and exposed.

Kenny McCormick. I don't know how to feel about him. He's like Wendy but a thousand times worse. The boy's got to be some sort of mind reader or something because he just has this knack of sensing things others don't. I'll never forget the day he approached me and out of the blue asked if I knew I was in love with Wendy. I was so shocked that I never actually gave him a direct answer since I went into an all out panic attack because I had no idea how he knew. For some reason, he just did and judging by that look he's giving me, he already knows what my answer would have been. At least I know he's been tight-lipped about it with everyone else, but I still don't feel comfortable around him. I watch him as he gives me a knowing look along with an amused smile and a half-wave before decisively swaggering off to Craig's table in front of us. I squint at the back of his blond head as he starts stealing Clyde's fries before turning my attention back to Wendy who's still hopelessly unaware of what just happened in those few seconds.

"Well if it's not Kyle, then WHO IS IT?? Oh God...it's not Cartman is it?! Tell me it's not Cartman!" Her eyes widen in horror and she covers her mouth in disgust and terror.

"EWW FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO!" I practically squeal feeling green at the thought. Thank God Kenny didn't hear _that _one_._ That's just twisted and I doubt he'd keep that to himself at all.

"Butters?" Wendy asks relentlessly.

_"Wendy"_ I groan, pulling at my curls.

"Then who?!" She throws her hands up in the air frustratedly and just when I think she's going to pull out a yearbook and begin reading off the names of the entire male population of our school, she suddenly stiffens. I watch curiously as she stares up at me with wide indescribable eyes and for a split second I'm sure I've been caught. "It's not....Stan is it?" She whispers, eyes pleading with me, and I let out a relieved breath I don't recall holding.

"No, it's NOT Stan! Jesus, I already told you Wendy, I don't like anyone" I sigh, rolling my eyes to emphasize my point. "Can't a girl just wonder about where her life is taking her to?"

Knowing Wendy, and know her I do, that should make her shut up and just drop the whole thing before I go totally crazy and start yelling 'IT'S YOU! I LIKE YOU! NOT ANY OF THOSE IDIOTS, YOU! '. And you see, that wouldn't be good because firstly I would give Kenny the satisfaction of admitting it to her, and secondly and most importantly, I would never dare risking our friendship for something that selfish. I mean, how could I?

"Are you sure?" She asks me, and damn it, she looking at me not entirely convinced.

"Positive" I sigh. It's actually the truth. I don't like anyone because I love her. I really, really shouldn't but I do and I'm perfectly fine if she doesn't know, or ever know for that fact, just so long as she's still there by my side, even if it's just as a best friend. I already know I could never ask more of her, in fact I came to terms with this a long time ago. Sure it was hard, but I know that Wendy loves Stan, not me, and even if she didn't love him, she still wouldn't love me. So I've decided that as long as she's happy, no matter who she's with, I can live with myself and the pain in my chest that eats at me whenever I see her smiling at him, or talking to him, or sitting by him, or...kissing him. Actually, I'd say I'm pretty much content with holding this secret inside me until something breaks, be it me or this thing called 'love'. As long as I know that she's happy, and that I'm the person she can turn to when no one else will listen, who she can tell everything to without a second thought, who can just be there for her, I think I can live with the pain, and these stupid tears that come at night even though they're not supposed to. I guess some things just can't be helped.

It used to be worse, especially after I first realized I was in love with Wendy of all people. Because who knew the dizzy, nauseous feeling I chalked up to bad cafeteria food, or the pounding heart beat, the stupid, random jitters before school, or feeling like I was going to collapse every time she smiled at me was actually because I _loved _her. Definitely not me, because I was sure I was in the process of dying from some horrible unknown disease until the school nurse informed me that it wasn't Yellow Fever or Malaria plaguing me, I was in love. It snowballed from there, and by the time I could admit to it, I was completely disgusted with myself, but not by the fact that I could fall in love with another chick, but that I could just be so...you know, selfish. Wendy had Stan, she's _always_ had Stan, but at that point I didn't care, because I wanted her so badly it felt like my heart would break in two. It was horrible.

I can remember running to the girls bathroom and crying my eyes out after she confided in me one day that she felt that Stan was the one; like it was destiny holding her hand, not just any dumb boy. I cried because I knew where she was coming from; because she was that for me. And of course, I cried because now I knew I really couldn't tell her my dirty little secret. Ever. And what made me even sadder was that best friends aren't supposed to have secrets. It was just another unspoken law that I had broken, right along with 'falling in love with your best friend'.

For a while it had felt like the sadness had swallowed me up, and I had a sneaking feeling that my heart wasn't actually in my chest, but somewhere outside, left forgotten and alone in the snow. But I guess God has other plans for me because it was one day during Spring Break that I had my epiphany, if you will. I had been watching Stan and Wendy holding hands and looking at each other in the way I wished we could when it just came to me. It was so random like the casual summer breeze, but I realized that even though I could never tell her how much I love her, my love didn't technically have to go to waste. I realized that even though I couldn't necessarily say it aloud, I could at least act on it, and be exactly what she needed me to be the most: a best friend. Which is exactly why I'm right here, this windy Autumn afternoon, denying myself the one person I need the most.

But just the fact that I can still show her my love makes me happy, like I have a purpose, like my feelings have a purpose. Who knows, maybe one day she'll put two and two together, since she is a ridiculous perceptive girl. Maybe one day she'll just open her eyes and know my every thought, my every emotion, my every pain. She'll be able to hear my mind saying when I look up at her, 'See how I'm looking at you Wendy? See how I'm smiling? How I'm making you laugh? Can you hear my heart pounding in my chest while I hold you as you cry over some pointless fight between you and Stan? Can you see how much I love you?'

Haha I'm such an optimist. I'm absolutely hopeless.

I bet she doesn't, you know. I doubt she sees how much I love her because obviously she wouldn't be sitting beside me right now if she did. Something would have changed and things wouldn't be this good. I would also bet that she's blissfully unaware of the fact that when she laughs, my insides light up and I'm in heaven, that when I'm holding her, I've got my eyes closed and I'm searing the moment into my memory. I bet she doesn't realize that when I look at her, I don't just see a pretty face, I see the most gorgeous person I've ever met in my life and that that smile on my lips isn't just a smile at whatever she's talking about, it's a smile at the fact that she's talking about it with me. I bet she doesn't even realize how absolutely stupidly happy she makes me by just sitting next to me. Oh, but if she did that wouldn't be too good either since we all know that'd just be a disaster if she found out just how much I care.

But it's okay, really. All of it's okay. Because even though she doesn't know it, I love her and I'll always be there for her, secretly waiting for another opportunity to tell her without saying a word. Corny? Let's just say I'm ready to roll my eyes at myself but come on, I'm being honest here. As far as I'm concerned with all the crap I have to deal with, I have the right to corniness at moments like these.

"Well, if you're sure Bebe" Wendy frowns unsurely at her sandwich and I know I'm sure.

"I'm sure" I assure her with a steady smile, but Wendy still looks disbelieving.

"I...", She starts, and I raise a brow in surprise. "I just worry about you y'know? It's been_ three_ years since you've liked _anyone_...I mean, aren't you lonely?" She asks, and I see an honest sadness gleaming in her grey eyes.

I look at her and her concerned face for a moment then look at the students passing by in front of us, and then to Kenny laughing with his friends. There goes my heart beat again..."Nope. Not at all." I chirp, "Besides, you're way better company than any of those immature assholes. I mean have you seen Craig and those other guys at the pep rallies? Ugh, like I'd actually want to be another hot slab of booty for them to drool all over. Seriously, they call me a bitch, but if anyone's a dog it's them" I point in the direction of their table ahead of us, and sure enough they're talking about their latest catch. God, they're so predictable. Thank goodness.

"Bebe Stevens, you're something else" Wendy laughs, finally letting the interrogation go.

That tricky wind blows by a second time and I catch myself reveling in the sweet, tangy scent of tangerines and Wendy all over again. A smile peeks at the corners of my lips and my eyes slip shut once more as I go about secretly inhaling her. Because when they're closed, I can pretend that I'm one of those geese flying overhead, off to somewhere far away from everything, even this wonderful bittersweet bliss. But when I open them again and see Wendy's naive smile, I remember that that day will come eventually. So for now, I decide, this is definitely okay. I'll let tomorrow figure itself out.

"That I am, Wendy Testaburger. That I am"

And you know what? I really am.

* * *

**End Note:**

**The review button is located in the below region of this oneshot. When clicked, it releases a dosage of happiness and splendor, for both you and this author. I suggest clicking it. And if you're wondering, yes, I did rewrite this frankly because I wasn't happy with the original. So I hope it's an improvement and that you'll tell me how you liked it because I honestly love reading reviews. Like I said, I suggest clicking ze button. Like say....NOW!**


End file.
